


This Probably Shouldn't Be So Simple

by bellimyss



Series: Lacunas [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Canon Compliant, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Menstruation, Mentioned Clarke Griffin - Freeform, Mentioned John Murphy - Freeform, Painkillers, Past Finn Collins/Raven Reyes, Sexual Tension, just to be clear, masochism isn't a thing in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellimyss/pseuds/bellimyss
Summary: A shot in the dark.Bellamy's had it with guns and bullets and poor aim.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *If you'd like to read this in the bigger standard font, just go to the upper right and click "hide creator's style" and it should change back. I just decided to make the smaller font a skin. So people have the option of reading the bigger or smaller font, whichever they prefer.
> 
> Okay. So. This is Bellamy and Raven together after she's been shot by Murphy. Clarke and Finn have just convinced the group that they need to leave the camp and Bell feels super bad about it. They end up being left alone in the drop ship. I wanted this one to reflect how much Bellamy and Raven's relationship shifted over the course of just a few days and how they've grown comfortable with each other. I'm assuming this is their last moment alone before season 2 starts so I needed the emotion here to reflect Bellamy's emotional reactions in 2x01 when he jumps on Murphy, etc.
> 
> I've also decided I'm going to make little one-gif summaries of the scenes that come before and/or after these fics, just to give the reader some reference as to when in the series they are taking place ~~tbh i know some of us stopped watching this show a long time ago so you might need a refresher~~. Personally, I like being able to connect a scene seamlessly into my fic and then back into the show again basically filling in that space, but like realistically ya know? Check out the gif down below.
> 
> [x](https://photos.google.com/album/AF1QipPGddmg4L6DdE-4lR6_GIZqzy_t_k27cKGY_uRI/photo/AF1QipOvMCuVq1-m8QLNxQL6Vedk7IImj9cPunl7fjkx)
> 
> Enjoy.

It's probably not necessary to state that the terror and anxiety in this camp was at its peak. It had such a wicked way of striking all its victims in a stiffening rigor mortis. Such a tight clasp on the muscles that they'd begun to feel like they're weren't in control of their own bodies. It's much harder to walk than it is to run. Probably because walking means you have a decent amount of time on your hands. This was no longer the case.

Bellamy stood near the top of the table, behind Raven's head. He stood in the exact same position that Clarke had left him in and tried to rummage through the mess of emotion that was mushrooming out of the deep cavern of his belly. Bellamy tended to do that. Stand still and think. About his feelings. About hiding his feelings. About strangling them and giving them no space to move around.  
     Maybe Clarke was right and the kids _were_ inspired by his passionate griping, clumsy decision making and inconsistent emotional dexterity but he didn't agree that they were "willing to die" for him. Because that's not what he wanted. He didn't want anyone dying for him. He didn't want anyone dying at all. "Out in the open" is all they would be if they dropped everything and left. Fish out of water. He was only recently able to resolve that going after Clarke, Finn and Monty was an acceptable thing to do. And he was willing to leave the camp in Raven and Miller's hands in order to do it. But there was absolutely nothing that could convince him that _this_ was a good idea. They'd be escaping to a place they'd never been. No idea how long it'd take to get there. No idea what was really waiting for them once they did. He didn't doubt that Lincoln would never send Octavia off somewhere if he knew it would put her in danger. But that didn't justify risking the lives of everyone on one man's advice. These weren't their woods. The Woods belonged to the grounders. And right now the delinquents were stumbling over each other to flee straight into its hungry, menacing jaws. It was hard for him to admit but Bellamy was desperate to fight. It was the most comfortable way for him to express his loyalty. Fighting for them. He was physically pained, having to run away from the thing that was so pompously threatening their livelihoods. But he was clearly the only one. The Flight Complex was always greater than the fight. _Crowds make bad decisions._ But democracy, as necessary as it was, doesn't take that into consideration. Clarke always seemed to gain more appeal with the kids than he did. She was positive and progressive and, from what everyone could tell, not as broken as he was. He felt like the mean parent; the bad cop. Like these past few days had been some kind of test and he flunked it. Bellamy burned up and shamed himself for being equally as hurt by this situation as he was scared. He hadn't prepared himself for what they'd do if they no longer had the strength of the walls to aid them. He wasn't prepared for how empty an empty campsite would make him feel. What was it? What was leaving such an enormous sinkhole in his chest? It could have just been some rude manifestation of his character, his relationship with his childhood rearing its ugly head, his tendency toward group-orientation. Bellamy lived for The Group. No matter how makeshift or small or dysfunctional. He crafted himself from The Group. With no group there was no him. And it was terrifying. Truth be told, to no one but himself, _family_ , not group, was probably a more fitting word.  
     There was still some dull aching from the thick noose that mercilessly dug into his neck and he could feel it starting to bruise. The headache he'd developed earlier was back with a vengeance. Overpowering and a bit obnoxious but nothing like the display of miserable discomfort that lie down on the table next to him. Bellamy recalled that Raven had been shot, remembered her screams and her clinched jaw, and his heart broke even more. The ship was quiet. All that could heard was the sound of the generators humming and everyone shuffling around outside. He still hovered near the edge of the table in the middle of the drop ship floor, moved his eyes slowly to the left and gazed at her, pursing his mouth and thinking again.

"Don't look at me like that," Raven demanded, not even looking up in his direction and letting out a deep sigh like she'd been holding her breath. Raven's voice brought him back. Bellamy eyes slowly blinked and then glazed over. He could literally feel himself shrink, his heart drop down in his chest, and then he rapidly grew self-conscious."I'll be fine," she snapped.

"Not if we leave this camp," Bellamy said frustratedly. Raven looked up and watched him as he circled back around to the other side and stood next to her left like he had before. He flipped Lincoln's journal around in between his fingers. "Raven, I'm sorry...." Bellamy balked, awkwardly doused in regret and melancholy. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, a bit sad, uneasy, and childlike. Bellamy suddenly remembered how young Raven was. How young they _all_ were, including himself. She was in a ridiculous amount of pain and her eyes said it, again and again.

Raven would have preferred to stop breathing right then if this bullet was the one that would seal her fate. But she wasn't dead. And she didn't feel like she was on her way. She felt more alive now than she ever had. Physically, at least. Who knows? Maybe that was a sign that she was dying. She felt like she could have been glowing; her entire body was electrified. Raven tried to resist the urge to writhe in pain and remember that she, indeed, had a bullet lodged in her back. Her sense of space was weak and even though she was awake, it felt as though she was slipping in and out of consciousness, the hot throbbing in her side coming and going in waves. There was only one other instance she could remember where she'd worked through such pervasive pain. Growing up, Raven's menstrual cramps were horrendous. The station's medical team would only give out small amounts of anti inflammatory drugs to younger kids on their periods until they were old enough to get the contraceptive implant that could put a stop to periods completely. Most of the people on the Ark had light periods that didn't cause much distress but there were a few, Raven included, that got stuck with the menstrual cycle and blood volume you'd expect from an individual born on the ground. Finn's mother would load Raven up with mild painkillers that she kept in a small, old-looking, pink tin container, reserved especially for her. The medicine never helped much, but Raven always enjoyed when Finn's mom would let her stay home from school and constantly check in, retelling Raven all the same stories about the times she lied about being sick to get out of classes. Most of the time, she'd be left alone in her cot with nothing but a small fan and hot tea and there wasn't much she could do about the awful aching and discomfort. She would double over and squirm. Even though it did nothing to slow the spasms that would tirelessly constrict around her abdomen. She would squirm anyway. Like it was a reflex, something to distract from the severity of the pain. Raven hadn't experienced such jarring pain since then. And this was clearly worse. Every move she made, no matter how slight, sent shockingly awful outbursts of pain throughout her side and into her limbs, neck and head included. Plus she was still exasperated from the high degree burn Clarke had seared over the opening of the bullet hole, to stop the bleeding and keep it from getting infected. There was little to distract her from the pain this time. But so far, Bellamy was doing a pretty good job.  
     Bellamy looked at her with sadness in his eyes. He surveyed her body, just like he had the night before. Only this time, he couldn't touch her. Her entire side had been torn into by a bullet from a gun that should have never ended up in Murphy's hands in the first place. Her breathing was labored and weak and a thin, evenly disperse layer of sweat was covering her face and chest. She had lavender clouds puffing up around her eyes and her irises were blackened and opaque; eyelashes wet and stuck together. Bellamy couldn't understand how he'd let something like this happen. With a few small changes, a few different decisions, it could have been avoided completely. Bellamy hated playing the perpetual self-critic but it was second nature and he didn't understand how to forgive his mistakes. Even if he hadn't really made any. Not only had Raven found a way into the drop ship and saved Bellamy's life. She found a way in because he asked her to. And she almost died in the process. Even if it was with good reason. _Is that what he was asking of everyone else, if they stayed there?_

"If there's anyone to blame for this...it's fucking Murphy." She looked at him knowing exactly what he was thinking. There was a very hard-line tone behind Raven's voice. It was so ridiculously easy for Bellamy to feel guilty for every bad thing that happened to anyone in his life. It was pitiful. He almost felt guilty for it. "Like I said, he could have easily hit those fuel tanks and not me. Technically, this is a miracle," Raven joked.

Bellamy raised his eyes to meet hers and garnered a fraction of a smile. "That's not funny."

Raven scoffed and smiled back and then found herself lingering on Bellamy's face, as he stood back and began to nervously traipse back and forth. She ran her eyes down his mouth, over his structured chin and across the muscular curve of his Adam's apple. She was entranced by how much ardor was showing on his face. It was impossibly endearing; a look not many people had. She watched Bellamy breath in and out, his strong chest rise up and down and ripple the fabric of his shirt. She remembered how he melted in her hands. His damp cheek and open mouth smashed against her clavicle. How he shouldered her legs and pulled off her shorts. And made a home in the thick of her thighs. Pressed perfectly inside her. There was so much right and so much wrong with what happened between them just the night before. The way Bellamy clutched her hips and kissed her and watched her, was one of the right things. Not so rough or hard that he could have ruined her on the inside, left her deader and emptier than before. Not so soft or overly cautious that he treated her like she was made of something fragile, indulging nothing and loving even less. It was just the perfect in between. And she never even needed to ask for it. Sex with him was passionate and honest, something she didn't know she could have without rightfully earning it. She could re-imagine the pressure and weight of his frame on top of her with exactness, especially with him standing right next to her. Raven recognized how strange it was to be thinking about sex at a moment like this but her senses were turned all the way up. She felt everything, every particle that floated through that space; the way the air shifted every time Bellamy crossed his arms. Like her nerve endings landed an major enhancement. What she wouldn't do to feel Bellamy's lips drag against hers again, feel the zero-gravity of a simulator and the scratchiness of her space suit, feel _anything_ but the bullet that had burrowed into her skin and made itself _very_ comfortable. Raven couldn't decide where her mind needed to go. Or get away from. Her attention kept flipping back and forth. Like she was being thrown in and out of two different dimensions, one where Bellamy's presence made her safe, guarded the door from Finn and the grounders and the world. Where his broad shoulders and mature hands made a unspoken promise to touch her again, just at a better time. Where his restless pacing was more than enough to steady her pulse and lull her to sleep. But the other dimension was nothing but sirens and lightning and ringing in her ears, a diluted haze of color and a blurred, neon sign signaling her need for panic. Where she had a Devil perched on her right side, tearing through her skin and flesh and she could see nothing else and think of nothing else but that Devil. Couldn't even recall her own name.  
     The longer she looked at Bellamy, the more her wound began to ache and she couldn't help but think it was because she was unintentionally absorbing all of the anguish he was emitting. Her eyes suddenly began to water and burn; pools of fluid built up around her lash line and eventually spilled over, sending a tiny stream of liquid down the side of her left cheek bone and into her ear. She quickly pressed both of her lids shut and tried to blink through the pain. The room was still quiet except for Raven's sporadic grimacing. Even though her vision kept blurring in and out, she could tell Bellamy's pathetic, puppy-dog eyes were still on her and it made her sigh. He was bent forward and supported his weight with his hands settled into the edge of table near the left of Raven's body, his arms taut and hips out, like he was reading battle plans. He focused on her wound, still bloody and raw and unkept, but he was clearly thinking about something else; stress situating itself in the corners of his mouth.

"They're being impulsive," Bellamy huffed out, breaking the silence.

"You're right. They are," Raven slowly agreed. "But Bellamy...they've got intel that we didn't have before. They've seen it. They know who's leading that army...and what we'll be up against if we stay here."

"And what if they're already here, Raven? Surrounding us?" Bellamy's voice started to crack as he stood up straight again. "None of these kids really know how to fight in open war. You're already hurt and unable to move. Not only will having to transport you slow us down but if we're attacked you're more vulnerable than any of us which means--" Bellamy stopped short and shook his head. Raven's eyes trailed down, level with Bellamy's lower stomach and she swallowed down a terrible sick feeling. "If we step foot outside this camp, we might as well be completely defenseless," he continued in a more collected tone.

"Look...," Raven asserted. "I'm not thrilled with the idea of running either...but I think I've lost my say in that decision. Just like we trust you...you're gonna have to trust them. Everyone is packing up to leave _right now_. This might be something we have to do."

Bellamy knew Raven was right. He wouldn't be able to stop them from leaving at this point. And there was no way he wasn't going with them.

"Just, prepare for a fight, either way," Raven said, after thinking to herself and weighing the pros and cons.

Bellamy hung his head and breathed in deeply. His eyes were closed and Raven could tell he was finally at The Acceptance stage. He was trying to sort it out. She knew it was tragic for Bellamy, seeing all of the kids so effortlessly abandon everything that they'd worked on for the past month. He didn't like the way it looked or tasted or felt. That his dedication wasn't being fully reciprocated. Loyalty, more than other things, was something he craved. Because he gave it out so willingly to those he cared about. But he was too smart to expect it. He understood the fickle nature of human beings and their fears, as much as anything else. His resolve dampened.

"You didn't fail, Bellamy," Raven reassured him quietly. Speaking was becoming harder. "I've been here...this whole time, okay? I've seen you."

Raven's voice, again, woke him out of his emotional slumber and brought him back to the cold, steely drop ship. It felt wrong that Raven was finding ways to comfort him through blinding pain and paresthesia that saturated her limbs, still pushing out encouraging words, as difficult as it was. He looked down at her, slightly anxious about the labored nature of her breathing. He really wanted to touch her but eventually voted against it. He wouldn't have known how. There was no particular way he could have held her, no way he could have curved his palm or shaped his fingers around her, that wouldn't have incited more pain. Bellamy could see she was breathing less vigorously and no longer made attempts to reposition her neck or hold her shirt away from the wound. Raven was trying to lie as still as possible, her arms down at her sides. Bellamy decided it was time for him to stop spacing out and tend to what was in front of him, including Raven. With Lincoln's diary still gripped tightly in his hand, Bellamy crouched down into a squat next to the cushioned table Raven was lying on and rested his forearms against the side, the natural and unrefined smell of his familiar dark blue jacket flooding the air and settling in Raven's nostrils. She conspicuously breathed it in.

"You know, I never said thank you....for helping me stop Murphy." Bellamy stated plainly, the deep bass in his voice softly rattling Raven's ear drums and cheeks.

"Don't sweat it." Raven said while swallowing down another jolt of pain. "It was an emergency. If we hadn't gotten Jasper out...we'd be _a lot_ worse off than we are right now." Bellamy didn't know what else to say. Raven's head was turned toward his and their faces were only a good twelve inches apart. "Besides, with you looking at me with that face all the time, how could I say no?" Raven said sarcastically, as she exhaled strenuously, pressed the weight of her head into the stiff pillow underneath her neck and squeezed her eyes shut.

Bellamy's face crumbled into a grief-stricken expression and he watched Raven drift quickly into that other, agonizing dimension she'd been trying to pull herself away from. Raven's physical presence was so powerful, so unabashed. He'd never seen her look so cautious. So confined to a such small range of motion. Unable to rush by in a hurried blur, with fervid determination and a swinging ponytail like she usually did. All of the color was leaking from her complexion and the flesh around the wound was caked in blood and turning a putrid purple-blue. Bellamy knew Finn wanted to keep Raven safe, but he didn't think Finn actually had a plan. He was afraid just like the rest of them and it didn't matter if there were better alternatives they had yet to discuss, he, as opposed to Bellamy, was desperate to _leave_. Bellamy had called him a coward before, and he didn't know if it was fair, but with regards to Raven, it absolutely was. Coming down to earth in a pod she threw together herself was one thing but Bellamy was beginning to realize how much Raven was willing to sacrifice for him, whether it be her physical life or her sense of self-worth. Raven was brave. At heart and in practice. And not just because she would fearlessly fight anyone who pushed her to, no matter their position or size but also because Raven was better than most at doing things she didn't want to but had to, rolling with the punches, accepting the ugly truth and deciding what she wanted to do about it. She was shamelessly setting a example for both of them, Bellamy _and_ Finn. But that bravery also got Raven in trouble and last Bellamy checked, Finn was incapable of mustering the smallest amount of rationale, discretion or _bravery_ , in order to keep her safe. In order to keep her body safe. Or her heart. Maybe he was just projecting onto this situation because he knew how much Raven was hurting because of Finn. He saw it with his own eyes. He held it in his arms. And it made him angry. He didn't think anyone so thoughtless should feel that confident in their ideas. Maybe Bellamy was really just referring to himself. Maybe he and Finn were one in the same. Raven, on the other hand, was as rare as they come. She had something no one else in this camp had. A brain _and_ a heart.

Of course Raven would have begged to differ.

The height of the table was elevated just enough for Bellamy to lean his chin into it. He dropped his head forward and rested it on the old, torn apart insulation that Raven was lying on. He was exhausted and their day hadn't even started. It felt good to just turn away from the horror of their situation, only for a few seconds. Bellamy couldn't remember the last time he'd slept or how much he'd gotten. Maybe a few hours within the last three days. He had to garner all of his strength to ignore the fact that his body was screaming for a good night's sleep. He was sure it would be a very long time before he'd be able to have one. Bellamy's slight position change caught Raven's attention and she opened her eyes and looked over at him. His face was buried and his thick, curly hair tickled the shaft of her finger. Her hands were still blotched with dry blood and clinched tightly into fists but she immediately relaxed them.

* * *

 

Determined voices could be heard outside, growing louder and approaching the drop ship's door. The footsteps of numerous people emerged and skid up the ramp. Finn swiftly pushed aside the door's curtain and noticed that he was sort of interrupting something, even though neither Raven or Bellamy were speaking. Raven quickly turned her head over and instantly became dizzy. Bellamy looked up. Three other kids entered the drop shop behind Finn, two carrying a stretcher. Finn froze for only a moment and then pursed his lips at Bellamy and hurried to Raven's side. He hadn't expected to find Bellamy still there.

"All right Raven, we have to go," Finn said to her quickly.

Raven nodded weakly and, without delay, Finn, and one other, positioned themselves at either end of Raven's body and began to wiggle their arms underneath her. Bellamy's dirt-covered hand tiresomely rubbed his mouth and he took a deep breath before standing all the way back up. He stepped back and watched closely as they slowly hoisted Raven up, only a few centimeters, and dragged her to the right, directly onto the stretcher that the other two gripped in their hands. Raven pushed her mouth together firmly, trying not to make any noise, and winced as soon as they set her back down. By now, Raven's temples were drenched in sweat and Finn pulled out a dry cloth and wiped her face gently. Bellamy didn't really know what to do with himself but he felt like he was in the way.  
     Finn's presence made everything seem surreal, adding to the intense unreal sensation that she'd had since she crash landed on this planet. Raven didn't know how to process Finn being back and alive, without a scratch. She felt like she'd already mourned for him, considered that she might not ever see him again, even though it was a thought that made her nauseated. Thankfully, she didn't have to feel that panic and heartache anymore. But she did. And she wasn't sure why. It was such a debilitating state to be in, grieving, and it was hard to shake off. _Snap out of it, Raven._ Maybe she was just preparing herself for the massive wave of death that was now persistently nipping at their heels. She didn't want to let the grief go, just in case she had to refer to it again. She noticed Bellamy awkwardly stand back and grab his gun from the table, throwing it over his shoulder and securing it in his hand. Something felt weird now that Finn and Bellamy shared a space again. Raven wondered what Finn would say if he knew that she went to Bellamy because she was hurt and angry and alone. _Guess it didn't really matter._ She knew Bellamy wasn't Finn's favorite person, and vise versa, so she found it ironic that she was now the one thing that linked them together even if Finn didn't know it. She stared at the ceiling and watched the panels wisp by as she bounced up and down while they carefully escorted her out of the ship and into the blinding light of the day. It hurt Raven's eyes and sent a sharp pain down through her skull and made her question why she ever had to leave the drop ship and, consequently, Bellamy's side.

Bellamy followed behind the group, out of the drop ship and analyzed the emptying camp, making sure everyone collected belongings that were essential, and nothing more. He didn't want to be too stubborn to help out but he still couldn't believe they were just walking out, with a few guns and some food that would last them four days, maybe less. Everyone else was treating this decision like it was the easiest thing in the world. And for Bellamy it was the hardest. It made him feel isolated. Raven's skin was lacerated and her body broken and he thought that maybe it wasn't Murphy's shot that landed her there, but _his_ lack of precision. _His_ poor aim. She didn't want him to blame himself so he tried to push the thought back but it kept surfacing and every time it came up making a little more sense. Bellamy cared about that girl. It was becoming dreadfully clear that he felt for her and hurt for her and it wasn't until this morning that he caught a full glimpse of what it'd be like to share something with her.

Raven fit so snugly into his world, it was almost bizarre, knowing Bellamy. It took no extra effort for him to connect with her. And it apparently took no time at all for everyone else to disconnect from the camp and run off to a place no one really knew but was sure could offer them sanctuary from the threat of annihilation. Both of those things sounded great but neither of those things should have been that simple.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey let me know what you think so far. I've got all of the Raven/Bellamy moments I want to work on written down and there should be quite a few (around 25-30 individual works). I'd love to beef up the Raven/Bellamy fan fiction library since it's lacking, to say the least. Thanks for reading and feel free to subscribe to the series (Lacunas) if you're liking it. I should be updating it a lot more consistently now ~~but don't quote me~~.


End file.
